Alices the Human Sacrifices
by Lucadris
Summary: How the small dream lured four not-so-quite-innocent people into their dooms. Based on 'Alice Human Sacrifice'.
1. Prologue: The Little Dream

Once upon a time, in a place unknown, there was a dream.

No one knew who had dreamt the dream; such a tiny dream it was.

The tiny dream began to think:

_"I don't want to disappear. _

_How can I make people dream of me?"_

The tiny dream thought and thought,

and finally, came up with an idea.

_"I will let the humans stray into me, and I will let _them_ create the world."_

* * *

XD What's up, guys? I haven't uploaded stories in a LONG time... and this song, at last, has inspired me. :) This is a short prologue. The next chapter, beginning with Meiko, will come up ASAP! XD


	2. The First Alice: Spade

_The first Alice, bravely,  
held a sword in a hand and headed to Wonderland  
Cutting down various things,  
She created a crimson passage_

* * *

The wood was dense with black trees and bushes. Everywhere she turned around, there were life; everything was so darkly fresh, alive, breathing. She could almost hear the plants respiring in and out, in and out. She smiled, closed her eyes, and listened to the rhythm of the life.

Then she realized that she had a sword in her hand. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life; the metal was purely silver, glistening even though there wasn't a ray of light entering through the thick foliage. The handle was red, red as blood. What a perfect, sensual weapon, excellently fitting for her. She smiled at it as if it were a gentle lover. Softly, as a lover would hold another's hand, she tightened the grip on the sword's hilt; the muscle and sinew grasped it strongly. The handle of the sword fit flawlessly against the palm of her hand, as if it were made especially for her. No, it was made for her. She didn't know who had made it, nor did she care. It was not important. What was important was that here, in this god-forsaken forest, she was free to do whatever she wanted. Whatever it may be.

She began to walk. There was no straight road in this wood. She went wherever her feet took her. As she started to traipse the black wood, she tentatively raised her magnificent sword and brandished it. The sound of the metal cutting through the air and a branch of a nearby tree swished into her ear. It was pure music. Nothing in this world would sound like it. Entranced by it, she swung the sword over and over, not caring what it sliced through: flowers, bushes, twigs, branches, trees. Swish, swish, swish, and soon she realized that there was blood flowing out of the wounds inflicted on plants. She turned her head around to see that she had left a path of bright crimson, marring the black forest floor with red blood. Fresh blood poured out more and more from the trees, wetting the ground. She lifted her sword to see that it was awash in blood, as well as her hand and arm and torso and her face. She was showered in red as was her sword. An enchanted, insane smile played upon her face. She wanted to scream out in joy at the top of her lungs.

**Oh, what a wonderful world this was!** She ended up laughing out loud, doubling up and unable to stop until her sides hurt. Her own sound of laughter deafened her from hearing the ominous sounds. The wood was no longer quiet. There was a low echo of a sound, a moan. Where it was coming from was ambiguous, because it was coming from the every corner of the wood. Or the forest itself was making the sound; the trees moved slowly, its branches swaying in the air. The moan became a whisper, the whisper lowly making its way to the ears of the woman.

_"It hurts…"_ the whisper resembled the moan, and it was so quiet she almost missed it; but she did hear it. Her maniac laughter stopped abruptly.

_"It hurts… it hurts so much… why did someone do this to us? Who? Who did it…?"_ the voice chilled her insides and blood, and froze her backbone. She stood there, stooped slightly from the laughter a few moments ago, but now unable to move from a sense of fear. She couldn't exactly define where it was coming from. It was as if it was surrounding her, poking her everywhere. Her hand holding the sword trembled, and as her hand did, the sword was shaken as well. A drop of blood, which had been dangerously hanging from the edge of the sword, dropped. It splashed into the scarlet ground without making a sound. Suddenly, a scream boomed in her ears.

**"YOU ARE THE ONE WHO DID IT!!!!!!"** before she even had a time to react, the black stalks and vines-stained red and cut in parts- reached out to her, not to rescue her but to hold her. The thick vines gagged her in her mouth and the stalks tied her hands, legs and torso, binding her so tight she could scarcely breathe through her squashed lungs. She struggled in vain; slowly, agonizingly slowly, the plants dragged her into the deepest part of the wood. Her screams were muffled, but even if they weren't, nobody would have heard her. Her fingernails left a mark on the ground and barks of the trees as she strained to escape this bondage. But in the end, there was only silence.

All was left of her was the sword, dripping with fresh blood, and the red path that would never be restored.

* * *

_That Alice, deep inside the wood,  
Was shut up like a prisoner  
Except for the trail left in the forest,  
there was no way of knowing what became of her_


	3. The Second Alice: Diamond

_The second Alice, precociously,_

_headed to Wonderland singing a song_

_Creating various sounds_

_the Alice gave birth to a crazy world_

* * *

The man did not know where exactly he was. All he could see was a simple forest path, filled with dark trees and bushes to the side. He looked up; no sky was visible. He momentarily shivered; he thought he'd just heard a sound. What was is exactly? He couldn't distinguish it properly. It had sounded something like a crow crowing, like in the sunset sky where they would fly back to their nests. It gave him goose bumps. As he always did when he was feeling down or scared- the man opened his lips and began to sing.

A short wind blew, ruffling his blue hair. Feeling somewhat braver now, he continued to sing, his voice rising high and low, sometimes skipping, sometimes dancing. His courage grew inside him as he sang, and he walked along the almost invisible forest path in quite a jolly manner. He sang of love, childhood, innocence, and other joys of life.

It wasn't until he had finished his seventh song when he first noticed something white fluttering in the wind. He stopped singing, and narrowed his eyes to see it more clearly. The white object, carried lightly by the force of air, flipped and hovered and floated- before finally, landing on the man's hands. Blinking, curious, he smoothed it and looked closely. It was a sheet of paper- a sheet of music, to be correct. On that piece of music was more music than he had ever seen; more beautiful, entrancing and addictive than all the music he had ever heard. There was no title on the top of the music; there was only a small mark of blue in the shape of a diamond.

Tentatively, his eyes scanned the music and his mouth opened. The hesitation only lived for a short while. Soon, he let out his voice flow away, like it had never before. His amazement at sudden outburst of coloratura vanished quickly as he began to enjoy this full explosion of his talent. He had always known, deep down, secretly, that he was every bit as good as everyone; that he was better than anyone else in singing. No one had understood him; but now, with this magical music and his voice, he would make them listen. His voice would force them to.

His pace quickened, the song growing louder and louder. From behind the trees, black shadows began to appear. They had the forms of human, yet they were not quite fully people; they were like dark silhouettes of the night, obscured by the lack of light. The only light from them were their eyes, the only glows in this dark forest. The man smiled a maniacal smile that looked agonizingly strange on his previously tender face. They were the audience, those black, shadowy people. They were looking onto him, and when his song finished, they let out a silent applause and sounds of awe. His grin grew even wider. This was what he had always wanted: someone to listen to his song, and perhaps even acknowledge his talent.

**Oh, what a wonderful world this was! **The man let out a laugh. His music had become a new creative force, weaving ways and world throughout the empty forest, creating doors and passages that were not there a moment ago. He looked up; the dark sky glared back at him. He kept on smiling that fanatic smile, now permanently engraved on his face.

The shadows gathered around him. They adored him; they shouted and demanded for him. So as to keep his 'fans' happy, he opened his lips to sing again.

_**Bang.**_ A sound of a gun firing rang through the forest.

The man looked down. From the hole in his chest where his heart ought to be, there was red blood seeping out; slowly, then more quickly. The world began to sway and turn as he fell and the shadows gathered around him. With no sound, with no mouths, they kept on asking him to sing. It was his duty, they said. That was he had been brought here, and given that music of blue diamond…

The man grinned with bloody lips. Then, opening his mouth, he began to sing. Such a frightening and haunting song it was, music of a dying life. Yet, as he died, a rose began to bloom from his gunshot wound, the vine growing tall with no support; the flowers bloomed splendidly, their originally blue petals soaked in red. The contrast of red and blue was beautiful to behold, even in the dying man's eyes. And still letting out his last breath, watching the rose grow and grow and finally covering himself and the forest entirely, he sang.

* * *

_That Alice was a rose,_

_killed by a crazy man;_

_Blooming a single red flower,_

_he wilted away in front of everyone's eyes_


End file.
